


Cendrillion

by TeaKitsune



Category: No Fandom
Genre: 1920s, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Inspired by The Great Gatsby, Original Fiction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Sexism, Prequel, Prohibition Era, Roaring Twenties, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Swearing, Symbolism, Tags May Change, all characters are of age, first world problems, implied adultery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21470941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaKitsune/pseuds/TeaKitsune
Summary: A prequel to "What She Wants, What He Needs". Set in the first-person perspective, this story follows Caelia Weatherby's grandmother, Caelia Fairwell. In the beginnings of the Roaring 20s, the first Caelia lived a life of ironic opulence, surrounded by hypocrites and liars. As a result, she learned to be quiet and never trust anybody based on first appearance. But things would change as soon as she entered the mansion of her equally wealthy neighbor, James Weatherby.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character





	Cendrillion

“That's why they call it the American Dream, because you have to be asleep to believe it.”  
― George Carlin

Chapter 1: On The Docks of Wealth

Whoever said that life couldn’t be lived without money is a God-damned liar. The world lives on the lives of others, ever turning and ever-changing, yet always seems to go in a circle. Nobody lives long enough to see the pattern, besides the mistakes that etch themselves in stone.

That’s why I decided to discard my base desires and greeds. I refuse to believe that everyone is outright cruel but to see the results of their work prove whether or not they were. Studying for years at an Ivy League college about history has taught me that kindness is inherent in humans, we simply hide it in order to get to the top. 

That’s what I don’t understand. If kindness is ingrained in us, why is cruelty ingrained within society?

Those thoughts always swam through my mind, even as my family moved to the posh docks and mansions of the islands of New York. We were new to Long Island, and all I knew was that the rich lived there, the wealthy lived there, and the important had made themselves there. Old money, new money, it didn’t matter, it was fat stacks of green that made men and women alike pant like canines when it came around.

My name is Caelia. Caelia Fairwell. 

In my younger years, I was much more trusting and innocent. But now, I guess you could call me "waspish". My mother and father showered me with gifts and opulence, yet I learned that I desired knowledge more than wealth. It gave me more meaning in life to be poor in spirit than rich in gold in all of my twenty years of life.

While my family originated from France, decades ago we migrated to America and made a name for ourselves here. My great grandmama gave us the new name of Fairwell, as well as wealth beyond our dreams. We laid low for a while, with the exceptions of my uncles and brothers joining in the European War for glory and notoriety as heroes, gaining money for a while until my father and his starry-eyed dreams decided to move to New York, to Long Island and make another name for ourselves. 

We moved to a nice mansion on the strip of land. It reminded me of the castles I had seen in storybooks as a child, but much more modern and gilded in precious metals and marble. Everyone around our home was just as rich as I was, but what interested me the most out of anyone on the island was the person who owned the house to my right.

My new neighbor was a myriad of mysteries. All I knew about him was that he was fabulously wealthy, judging by the size and intricate detail of his mansion. He had pools, gardens, fields, all of the aspects fit for a king in his castle.

It disgusted me.

I mean, I didn’t know jack about him, yet I already felt grossed out by his wealth. What road that leads to wealth is ever paved with clean hands? I imagined all of the backstabbing, dirty things he might’ve done to get this far. Maybe he was a spoiled old man who whined for his fortune, or just a middle-aged man on par with Mafisto, making more deals than the devil himself.

He always seemed to have lavish parties once a month, but I wasn’t sure considering the fact that I only lived here for two months. 

The parties always annoyed me. Don’t mistake me for a prude or a stickler for fun, I enjoy the feeling of joy instilled around parties, but the parties of adults always annoyed me. With all the booze, debauchery, and foolishness, I simply turned away from it. 

My comforts from the annoyances of the world always were some quiet, peaceful time alone. Thankfully, there was a nice dock that I always retired to for a few hours. I always had a few items to accompany me, often books or food that I spent hours with as I watched the water and sky. I never noticed it until a few days ago, but there was someone with me. Not right next to me, but at the dock away from mine. The figure looked like a young male, around my age, possibly older. I never got a good look at his face, but whenever I felt my mind shifting to something else while by myself, I always focused my attention on him. He looked out at the water, his body slouched and not moving as if he was hypnotized by the moving, murky waves of the water that stretched for miles.

It felt almost personal to watch him, violating even. I enjoyed my personal alone time, so why should I intrude on his? But sometimes I just couldn’t help myself, I was just morbidly curious.

And yet I would soon satiate my curiosity.


End file.
